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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29959389">Lemme Hear Ya</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellosweetie17/pseuds/hellosweetie17'>hellosweetie17</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - College/University, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Clothed Sex, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Lingerie, M/M, Porn With Plot, Suna Drives Osamu Crazy, Top Miya Osamu, bottom suna rintarou</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-04-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 01:46:52</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,496</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29959389</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellosweetie17/pseuds/hellosweetie17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>As quiet as they both are, Osamu knows the right words to make Suna scream.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Miya Osamu/Suna Rintarou</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>200</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!! NSFW Big Bang 2021</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Lemme Hear Ya</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Here's my contribution to the Haikyuu NSFW Big Bang 2021. Thank you to my wonderful partner, Nat <a href="https://twitter.com/illuminati_png">@illuminati_png</a>, whose artwork is truly 🔥🔥</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Wakey, wakey, sleepyhead."</p><p>The curtains were flung open, and the early morning sun poured into the bedroom, spilling across Osamu's face. He rolled away from the window, groaning as he pulled the blanket over his head.</p><p>Before he could get too comfortable, Suna began yanking on the blanket. Osamu tightened his hold on the hem. Suna pulled harder. Their tug-of-war continued until Osamu was rocking back and forth.</p><p>Grumbling an, "Aw, c’mon" into the pillow, Osamu released the blanket. Cool air kissed his bare skin as it was flipped down to his thighs. </p><p>Suna whistled loud enough to break the windows. "Nice ass."</p><p>Osamu gave Suna the finger before flopping onto his other side, facing his demonic early bird of a boyfriend. He opened his eyes to find Suna standing above him, framed by light. It made him look ethereal, beautiful with his messy bed head sticking out in every direction; his cheek red and crinkled from the pillow; his eyes bright and smile kissable, even with the dry drool crusting at the corner of his mouth.</p><p>But seeing as it was too-fucking-early o'clock in the morning, Osamu wanted to punch Suna more than he wanted to kiss him.</p><p>"Whaddya want?" Osamu asked, voice raspy from sleep.</p><p>"I made you some coffee." Suna showed him a volleyball-shaped mug. He took a long sip. The warm brew poured down his chin, courtesy of a cup that wasn't meant to be used. </p><p>"Is that why you're drinkin' it?"</p><p>"Yup," Suna replied, putting the empty mug on the nightstand. He crawled into bed and slid on top of Osamu. Tucking his head into the crook of Osamu’s shoulder, he added, "I'll make you some more."</p><p>Osamu hummed into Suna's hair, the silky strands tickling his nose. He brought a hand up to rest on the back of Suna's neck. Long fingers toyed with the fine hairs beneath them, twisting and twirling, tugging until Suna exhaled a sleepy sigh as his thumb caressed Osamu’s cheek.</p><p>A gentle silence fell between them; only their soft breaths could be heard. It was the sort of subtle intimacy Osamu loved: the comforting body heat, the feather-light touches, the lingering traces of sleep. The entire world faded away, and it was simply Osamu and Suna, lying in bed without a word spoken. </p><p>Plus, Suna was straddling him, and that was a perfect way to start the day. If Osamu’s memories of last night served as any indication—Suna riding his cock with his head thrown back, cries of Osamu’s name spilling from swollen, red lips—welcoming the night in the same position wasn't so bad either.</p><p>"Hey, pervert," Suna mumbled, "how about you stop thinking about me sucking your dick long enough to feed me."</p><p>A bright flush blossomed on Osamu’s cheeks, the color deepening as Suna laughed. "Was not."</p><p>"Was too."</p><p>"Was not."</p><p>"Little 'Samu says otherwise."</p><p>Seeing as it had already been called out, Osamu’s cock gave a little twitch against Suna’s belly.</p><p>Suna laughed again. He sat up, splaying his palms out on Osamu’s chest. He gazed down at him, his eyes glittering as he said, "Cook breakfast wearing nothing but your apron, and I'll wear a little something for you."</p><p>Osamu’s brows shot up. It was obvious Suna was bribing him, but he was already picturing himself peeling off layers of silk and lace as he kissed Suna’s skin. Besides, he would be a fucking fool to say no.</p><p>"Deal."</p><p>"Great." Suna leaned down, pecking Osamu’s lips before hopping out of bed and heading into the kitchen.</p><p>By the time Osamu made his way out of the bedroom, Suna was at the kitchen island eating slices of oranges as a fresh pot of coffee brewed. He was typing away on his phone, most likely wreaking havoc on Atsumu's Twitter.</p><p>Osamu passed by, pausing for Suna to pop an orange slice into his mouth before walking toward his apron hanging by a cupboard. Grabbing it from the hook, Osamu slipped it on. The well-worn fabric scratched his skin, soft and familiar; onigiris were scattered on the front, with 'Kiss the Chef' emblazoned on it in bright, bold letters. The apron was a gift from Suna when they moved in together after high school.</p><p>Osamu went to the counter and was clanging around for a frying pan when he heard, "Do you wanna come with me to the library?"</p><p>"The library?" Osamu asked, glancing at Suna over his shoulder.</p><p>"Yeah," Suna answered, drumming his fingers on the kitchen island's surface. "You remember those, right? That's where they have books."</p><p>Again, Osamu flipped Suna the bird. "Y'know exactly what I meant, asshole. Why do you wanna go there?"</p><p>"To play footsies with you."</p><p>"Lame."</p><p>"Love you, too." Before Osamu could reply, Suna continued with: "I have a test Monday, and I figured changing up the routine would help keep my head on straight since someone"—Osamu felt Suna's eyes on his back—"likes to...<em>distract </em> me."</p><p>Turning around, Osamu crossed his arms and leaned on the counter; the wood of the lower cupboards was cool against his bare skin. He looked at Suna, who was suddenly fixated on his phone.</p><p>"I thought you hated goin' there," Osamu said.</p><p>Suna shrugged a shoulder, not looking away from his phone as he replied, "I do, but sacrifices must be made so I don't fail my classes."</p><p>That was a lie: Suna was excelling in his studies, enough so that other students went to him for his notes and personal study guides. Somehow, he had managed to obtain a small academic fan base. And they were annoying as hell, too. Osamu had lost count of how many times he'd been cornered with questions about Suna’s email and number; what classes he was taking; his workout routine and practice schedule; "<em>I made these for Suna-san, do you think he'll like them</em>?"</p><p>As much as Osamu wasn't looking forward to another encounter with Suna’s followers, he could never deny his boyfriend anything he wanted.</p><p>Running his hand through his hair, Osamu asked, "Meet up there after lunch?"</p><p>Suna smiled, soft and sweet. "It's a date."</p><p>The corner of Osamu’s mouth curved into a tiny grin before he walked toward the fridge. Opening it, he called, "Whaddya want for breakfast?" over the loud, stuttering hum of the too old appliance.</p><p>When Suna didn't answer, Osamu glanced over his shoulder. "Rin—"</p><p>He was cut off by the click of a camera shutter, and black dots burst behind his eyes as he was blinded by the flash. Osamu blinked them away, then spun around to find Suna holding his phone in the air.</p><p>"Did you just take a picture of my ass?"</p><p>Exhaling a dreamy, awestruck sigh, Suna tilted his head to the side and smirked. "It's such a nice ass."</p>
<hr/><p>For a Friday afternoon, the library was packed. Students flooded the rows of shelves and crowded the tables. Even the individual cubicles had groups crammed into the tiny spaces. </p><p>Osamu was about to suggest they find another place to go when Suna leaned in, his breath hot against Osamu’s ear as he whispered, "C'mon, there has to be an empty table somewhere."</p><p>"Doubt it," Osamu muttered, but followed Suna down a line of tables anyway.</p><p>They passed by students swallowed up by stacks of books and scattered papers. Osamu heard wisps of hushed conversations under the sounds of pens scratching and fingers flying across keyboards. He even saw someone sleeping, their glasses crooked and pencil limp in their hand as they snored away, unaware of the line of drool spilling from their mouth. Relatable.</p><p>Osamu’s gaze wandered over the area. He glanced to his side and did a double take when something caught his eye. Whether it be by luck or divine intervention, he spotted an empty table free for the taking. Without a word, he nudged Suna, then made a beeline toward the center of the room.</p><p>"Nice," Suna commented, as they both took a seat and placed their bags on the floor.</p><p>Osamu leaned down and unzipped his bag, reaching in to grab his study materials. He put his economics book on the table with a light <em> thump</em>. Two different notebooks found their way into his hands. A small frown tugged at his lips. Osamu looked at one, then the other, torn on which one he should focus on: his class notes or his experimental recipes? His mind told him to dive into the former and broaden his academic horizons while his onigiri-beating heart yearned for the latter.</p><p>The sound of a throat clearing interrupted his thoughts. Osamu glanced up, meeting Suna’s eyes. He was watching Osamu from beneath his lashes as he slid a packet across the table, which Osamu gladly took.</p><p>"An economics study guide, from me to you," Suna told him. Osamu opened the packet to take a quick peek of its contents. As soon as he laid eyes on the first page, his head whipped up and he fixed Suna with an unimpressed stare.</p><p>Smack dab in the center of the page was a giant cartoon dick with '<em>Smooches</em>' written in a speech bubble.</p><p>"What's wrong?" Suna asked, his voice light, airy, innocent. Osamu wanted to slap him upside the head with the papers clutched in his fists.</p><p>Osamu flipped the packet over so no one would see his boyfriend's award-winning artwork. "Can't you keep it in your pants for five minutes? We're in a freakin' library."</p><p>Propping his elbow on the table, Suna cupped his chin in the palm of his hand. "I feel like that's supposed to mean something to me."</p><p>Osamu didn't dignify that with a response because Suna was right: when it came to sweet treats and Osamu, Suna could barely keep his hands to himself no matter the time or the place. Suna’s endless need to cop a feel has led to a few awkward situations, more compromising than Osamu would like to admit.</p><p>"Thanks for makin' this," Osamu said, flipping the packet open and skipping to the second page. He breathed out a sigh of relief. No dicks.</p><p>"No problem," Suna replied, opening up his textbook and letting its cover slap onto the table. "'Your Chef Creation Senses' have been tingling, so I know you'd rather focus on food than a bunch of numbers.</p><p>"But there's some questions at the end for you to do since I can't be the only one doing all of the hard work."</p><p>Suna said nothing more, and the conversation ended with a click of his pen.</p>
<hr/><p>Two hours later, Osamu was ready to bang his head on the table and sleep for the next century. It was tempting, but he knew he would wake up to something drawn on his face, courtesy of Suna. He opened his recipe notebook, instead.</p><p>Osamu tapped his pen on the table in quick beats, as he read over his latest ideas; he tried to decode the written-in-the-middle-of-the-night chicken-scratch scribbled in the margins, his eyes crossing and mind coming up blank.</p><p>He managed to make out one word—mirror—and was working on another when he felt a light nudge against his leg. It was a barely-there touch, and if it hadn't been for the way his ankle twitched at the contact, Osamu would've thought he had imagined it. Suna probably kicked him by accident; it wouldn't be the first time, considering Suna always stole the blankets and both sides of their bed, leaving Osamu dangling from the edge of the mattress.</p><p>The recipe in his notebook vied for Osamu’s attention, and the nudge-to-the-leg incident was flung from his mind as he figured out the second word: glaze. Apparently, his sleep addled thoughts had rummaged up a cake with a mirror glaze. Osamu must've been dreaming about making Suna dessert to satisfy his sweet tooth. A cake sure as hell had nothing to do with the main ingredients on the page: everything needed to make salmon onigiri.</p><p>So, with food on the brain and the world at his fingertips, Osamu got to work. His pen scribbled across the paper; ideas poured from the tip in black ink. Words flowed into tastes and textures. They settled on Osamu’s tongue, flavorings bursting and satisfying.</p><p>The end of Osamu’s pen found its way into his mouth; he nibbled on the plastic with a light <em> click click click </em> of his teeth. An idea struck him like a blinding bolt of lightning. Biting his bottom lip, he wrote it down in hurried strokes, excitement buzzing through his veins.</p><p>Osamu was almost finished when he felt it again: a push to his ankle. This time, it was softer, less like a converse shoe and more like a foot covered in fox-printed socks.</p><p><em> Why do you wanna go there</em>?</p><p><em> To play footsies with you</em>.</p><p>"Rin," Osamu called, his voice barely above a whisper. He looked up from his notebook to stare across the table. Suna was hunched over, nose buried deep in his textbook while he marked passages in an ugly, neon pink highlighter.</p><p>He knew Suna had heard him, despite his shameless boyfriend's foot sliding up his leg; the touch was playful, with a hint of mischief.</p><p>Osamu moved his leg away from Suna’s prowling foot, hissing a curse when his ankle smacked into the table's own leg. He scowled, mumbling from gritted teeth, "Will you cut it out?"</p><p>Suna raised his head and gazed at Osamu from beneath his long lashes. A sly, lopsided smile tugged at the corner of his lips. He blinked innocently, a little too sweet to be anything but evil.</p><p>"Nope," Suna mouthed, his grin widening. Osamu could see the horns poking out from his messy hair; they lengthened and curled around his temples, ending in sharp tips as Suna put his foot on Osamu’s crotch.</p><p>A sharp gasp burst past Osamu’s lips before he could catch it. He felt the heavy, annoyed stares of the students nearby. Someone hissed out a harsh, "<em>Shh</em>!" Mortification slapped Osamu like a sizzling frying pan. Breathless, he muttered out a quick apology, flushing when he realized it was more of a moan than a whisper.</p><p>"Doing alright over there?" Suna whispered, tilting his head in concern as his toes circled the growing bulge between Osamu’s thighs.</p><p>"You're such an ass." Osamu’s breath hitched at a hard dig of Suna’s heel. Hands clenching, he added, "Ya need to cut it out before someone sees."</p><p>"Sees what?"</p><p>"Do ya want me to beat your ass?"</p><p>Suna cocked a brow at that. "You know I'd never say no to having your hands on my ass."</p><p>The image of Suna bent over the table, his skin reddening the more Osamu’s hand stung invaded his mind.</p><p>"Before we get to that, though," Suna added, "I wanna see you squirm before you crack, and we end up making out in a closet or something."</p><p>"Romantic."</p><p>"I know." Suna rolled his foot from heel to toe in rough strokes. The friction sent a shiver running down Osamu’s spine, fueling the heat pooling in his belly.</p><p>Leaning forward, Suna’s eyes bored into Osamu's, his gaze burning and words dark. "Show me what you got, Miya-san."</p>
<hr/><p>"Don't you think this is inappropriate?" Suna gasped, his head rolling to the side as Osamu kissed his neck, nipping and sucking at the skin beneath his lips. "What if someone <em> sees</em>?"</p><p>Osamu licked up the side of Suna’s neck to whisper in his ear: "Let 'em." The moan that crawled up Suna’s throat was nothing short of sinful; the breathy sound set Osamu’s blood on fire, heat sweeping through his veins straight to his cock.</p><p>"And they say I'm the bad one," Suna said, hooking his arms around Osamu’s neck. He spread his legs, shuddering when Osamu slid his knee between his thighs.</p><p>Osamu huffed out a throaty laugh. It was true: Suna was the one who dragged Osamu out to do things he would've never done in the past, the one who brought out the devious side of him. Making out in a stairwell of the library was another box Suna could checkmark on his "What Shameless Thing Can I Make Osamu Do Next?" list.</p><p>Thoughts of library etiquette flew out the window, as Osamu slipped his hands beneath Suna’s shirt and gripped his hips. Suna had begun grinding on Osamu’s leg. His breath was hot in Osamu’s ear, fluttering through his hair in harsh pants.</p><p>"'Samu," Suna groaned. He dug his nails into the back of Osamu’s neck, and Osamu hissed, his dick throbbing and toes curling in his shoes as the painful pleasure rippled across his skin.</p><p>Osamu wanted to devour Suna, pick him apart and taste every inch his tongue could touch. His thoughts ran wild with the idea of taking Suna right then and there. He wanted to hear his name bouncing off the walls of the empty stairwell. He wanted to fuck into Suna until he could hear nothing but the sweet pleas falling from Suna’s lips and the wet, harsh echoes of skin slapping against skin. Osamu wanted it all. He had half a mind to rip his boyfriend's clothes off and take it.</p><p>But the library stairwell wasn't their bedroom. Neither was it the gym's locker room. And it certainly wasn't Sakusa’s shower, where they had fucked and left a mess while Atsumu and Sakusa were out. It wasn't Osamu’s proudest moment, but they were drunk and Suna’s ass had him falling to his knees to taste it.</p><p>He was marking his way up Suna’s neck when he heard his raspy voice, "You're gonna make me come in my pants."</p><p>"What's your point?" Osamu asked, before biting on a spot below Suna’s ear. He grinned against the red skin beneath his lips when Suna whined and arched his back off the wall.</p><p>Suna swallowed, then replied, "You have to go to work"—Osamu froze—"and I'm gonna be late for practice."</p><p>Groaning, Osamu laid his forehead on Suna’s shoulder. A spike of annoyance ran through him. He should've known Suna was up to something when he had asked him to go to the library. Now he had the joys of walking to work with a hard-on and a case of blue balls to look forward to.</p><p>"You drive me crazy," Osamu mumbled into Suna’s shoulder. "You know that, right?"</p><p>There was a kiss to his head, followed by: "Driving you crazy is my favorite pastime."</p>
<hr/><p>"Osamu-kun! Are you almost finished with the order?"</p><p>The heat rising from the stove made sweat bead along Osamu’s brow. Droplets trickled down the back of his neck and sides of his temple. He wiped away the sweat with his arm.</p><p>"I'm platin' now," he shouted over the sound of the food crackling in the frying pan. Grabbing a spatula, Osamu shoveled the food onto the plate. The warm, spicy scents wafted up from the meat and vegetables; they tickled Osamu’s senses and made his mouth water.</p><p>As much as he wanted to dig into the food made by his own hand, Osamu knew he would spoil his dinner. He had a different sort of meal waiting for him at home.</p><p>"Food's ready, Emi!"</p><p>The door to the kitchen burst open, and a flurry of pink hair rushed to Osamu’s side. He used a hand towel to hold the steaming plate while he passed it over to Emi, whose serving tray was chipped and cracked, yet reliable in a way that made Osamu’s blood pressure spike when a dish was placed on top of it.</p><p>Emi held the tray in one hand; Osamu heard a slight crack, and his heart skipped a beat. "So, how do I look?"</p><p>Placing his hands on his hips, Osamu looked Emi from head to toe, taking in her wild, curly pink hair and bright blue eyes down to the smudge of sauce on her employee shirt.</p><p>"I'd leave Suna for ya."</p><p>Smiling, Emi chirped, "Great!" She spun on her feet—the plate rattled on the tray, and Osamu’s hair turned gray—and sped out the swinging door.</p><p>As the door swung to and fro, Osamu caught a glimpse of Suna sitting at his usual table. He was early. The diner wasn't closing for another hour or so. He was taking a step toward the door when it burst open, smacking him in the face.</p><p>Osamu stumbled back, his hand flying up to his nose. "Emi, will ya watch—"</p><p>"He is <em> so </em> cute!" Emi squealed, twirling into the kitchen with the tray high above her head.</p><p>Osamu’s face stung, nose running as tingles spread through his sinuses. Sniffing, he wiped at his nose, then asked, "Do you even know his name?"</p><p>Emi froze. She gazed over her shoulder at Osamu, her eyes wide and jaw slack. Her cheeks darkened. She let the tray fall to her side with a clap against her thigh.</p><p>"Oh, my god." Emi's hand flew to her forehead. She began pacing around in a circle. "Oh, my <em>god</em>."</p><p>The serving tray was tossed onto the counter. In a blink, Emi was in front of Osamu. She fisted her hands into the front of his apron and yanked him down until they were nose-to-nose. Her eyes blazed with determination.</p><p>"Go ask him his name!" she told Osamu, tightening her grip on his apron. </p><p>He shook his head, mostly because he already knew the guy's name. Not only was he a regular customer, they shared a class together.</p><p>"Aw, c'mon," Emi whined, stomping her foot. "Help a girl out!"</p><p>"Go ask 'im yourself."</p><p>"Suna-kun’s here."</p><p>Osamu didn't miss the abrupt switch in topics. "I saw him while you were out there flirtin' with the guy who comes in nearly every night."</p><p>The glare thrown his way had the power to turn him to ash before he was swept away into a gutter.</p><p>"Anyway." Emi paused to let go of Osamu’s apron. Taking a step back, she flipped her curls over her shoulder. "Suna-kun is here a bit early from volleyball practice. I hope nothing's wrong, but I did see this <em>nasty</em> <em>bruise</em> on his neck. Maybe you should check on him."</p><p>Osamu was already heading out of the kitchen, hearing Emi's, "Don't forget the guy's name!" before the door closed. He sped past the tables.</p><p>"Rin," Osamu called, slowing to a stop. Suna looked at him with a crease in his forehead and a questioning look in his eyes. Osamu grabbed his face and tilted it from side to side, searching for the mark.</p><p>"What're you doing?" Suna sounded annoyed, but Osamu knew he was pleased by the attention.</p><p>"Emi said you have a bruise on your neck," Osamu told him. Lifting Suna’s chin, he continued, "Didja get hurt at practice or—"</p><p>The words died on his tongue. On the front of Suna’s throat was a large hickey, ringed with harsh, red imprints and light scrapes. Osamu let go of Suna’s face with a huff. He was quick to accept his fate: teasing by the hands of Emi and Suna because Osamu was weak and sloppy, thinking with his dick rather than his mind because Suna was Suna, the biggest ass in town.</p><p>"And here I was thinkin' you took a ball to the face or somethin'."</p><p>Suna propped his elbow on the table, setting his chin on the back of his hand. He peeked at Osamu from beneath his lashes.</p><p>"It really does hurt." Suna blinked, too innocent considering the heat behind his lazy smile. "Maybe the chef should take it easy when he's"—his fingers gestured at his neck—"<em>hungry</em>."</p><p>The vein in Osamu’s forehead throbbed, and his eye twitched. "Can you keep your comments to yourself for the next hour?"</p><p>"Maybe," Suna hummed. Osamu heard the lie in the drawn out 'm'.</p><p>Scoffing, Osamu spun on his feet, his hair a few shades grayer as he marched back to the kitchen. Under his breath, he muttered, "You're in for it when we get outta here."</p>
<hr/><p>The apartment door opened and closed with a bang, rattling the pictures on the wall. Osamu thought he heard one fall to the floor when he pinned Suna to the wall, but it was hard to hear anything over the heavy breaths and slick pants echoing in his ears.</p><p>"Osamu—<em>fuck</em>!" Suna gasped, digging his nails into the back of Osamu’s neck.</p><p>A sharp hiss blew through Osamu’s clenched teeth. The bite of Suna’s nails made him dizzy, blood rushing from his head straight to his cock. He felt it twitch and throb as Suna began grinding against him, riding the leg between his thighs.</p><p>
  
</p><p>"More," Suna whispered. "Please, 'Samu."</p><p>Osamu groaned at the sweet, needy way his name dripped from Suna’s lips. His original plan was to tease Suna, draw out every touch until Suna was on his knees with Osamu’s cock in his mouth. There was always tomorrow.</p><p>Their lips crashed together in a searing kiss, messy and impatient. They stumbled into the bedroom; things were knocked onto the floor, knees cracked against the wall, and Osamu’s back took a hit to the door frame. Between the painful curses and hushed laughter, they made their way to the foot of the bed.</p><p>Osamu peeled Suna’s hands away from his neck. He placed a chaste kiss on Suna’s mouth, then put a hand on his chest. Osamu gave a gentle push, and Suna fell onto the bed.</p><p>Light from the street lamp poured in from the window. The glow highlighted Suna’s hair in blue waves fanned across the pillow. It made his eyes sparkle beneath his long lashes and his swollen, split-slick lips glisten. Osamu could see the sweat gathering in the hollow of Suna’s throat. </p><p>"Beautiful," Osamu said, eyes roving over Suna splayed out on the mattress. He climbed onto the bed, crawling his way over Suna’s body until he was hovering over him, one hand planted by Suna’s head and the other caressing his cheek.</p><p>"I've been thinkin' all day about how I'm gonna take you apart." Osamu leaned down to kiss the blush flooding Suna’s skin. He ran his lips down the side of his boyfriend's throat, tongue darting out to lick away the sweat. He heard Suna suck in a harsh breath.</p><p>Smirking, Osamu continued, "About how I'm gonna taste every inch of ya before I put you back together just so I can break you again." He paused so he could settle on top of Suna, his hips between his legs.</p><p>"I'm gonna keep fuckin' you until the neighbors hear you," Osamu promised, staring into Suna’s dazed eyes, pupils blown wide. He thrust their cocks together, leaning down to drink the gasp from Suna’s mouth.</p><p>"They're gonna hear ya screamin' my name, hear how much of whore quiet Suna Rintarou is for me."</p><p>Osamu pushed himself to his knees. He stared down at Suna. Sure, he was gorgeous flushed and clothes rumpled, but Osamu wanted to see more. And besides, Suna had promised a surprise for him. Osamu wanted to see it.</p><p>"Take off your clothes."</p><p>They were gone in a flash, everything tossed onto the floor save for something Osamu only saw in his wet dreams. His mouth ran dry.</p><p>Suna smirked. The curve of his mouth was sinful. "Cat got your tongue?"</p><p>"No, just a tease called 'Rin'." Osamu reached down to run his fingers over the sheer lace panties, lavender with bows at the sides. The head of Suna’s cock stuck out from the hem of the panties, red and leaking onto his stomach. It was obscene. Osamu was going to devour him.</p><p>"Where did you get these?"</p><p>"Your brother."</p><p>"Say that again, and I'm gonna leave you here to jack off by yourself," Osamu warned. "I won't even watch, and I know ya love it when I do."</p><p>As if to apologize, Suna flipped over. He got on his hands and knees, ass high in the air. He wiggled his hips, and Osamu nearly fell off the bed at the way the lingerie stretched over the curve of his ass. Osamu was so entranced by the sight, because Suna Rintarou was wearing fucking <em> panties </em>, he hadn't noticed that Suna had grabbed the lube until it smacked his arm.</p><p>"Stop with the thirst and fuck me," Suna demanded.</p><p>Osamu didn't need to be told twice. He popped open the lube, squirting it onto his fingers before closing the bottle and tossing it to wherever it landed.</p><p>With his dry hand, he pulled the panties to the side. "Is this okay?"</p><p>"I'm wearing them for you." Suna glanced over his shoulder. "Do whatever you want."</p><p>Well, then.</p><p>Osamu slipped one finger inside of Suna. The tight heat made him swallow, nearly choking on the bob of his throat. He pulled out, circling the rim before pushing his finger back in. Suna sighed, sweet and pleased.</p><p>Suna whined when one finger became two, and began thrusting back when two became three. By the fourth finger, he was threatening to kick Osamu in the dick.</p><p>"Alright," Osamu said, removing his fingers from Suna’s hole. He sat on his knees and reached for his zipper. Tooth by tooth, he pulled it down, sometimes slipping from the lube covering his hand. He yanked his pants down far enough to pull his cock out and slick it up with the rest of the lube.</p><p>Grabbing the base, Osamu slid the head of his dick into Suna. He took it slow, pushing in, then pulling out in gentle thrusts. He was half way in when he heard a loud snore. Osamu scowled.</p><p>"Will you cut it out?"</p><p>Another snore, followed by a snort.</p><p>Osamu gripped Suna’s waist and shoved the rest of himself in. He grunted at the wet, tight heat wrapped around his cock while Suna moaned, back arching and head thrown back.</p><p>Panting, Suna pushed his hips back and murmured, "Please."</p><p>Osamu ran his hands along the length of Suna's sides before touching the bows of his panties. He twisted his fingers around the silky material. Osamu pulled his cock out until only the head remained, then snapped his hips forward.</p><p>He fucked into Suna hard and fast. The sweat-slick sound of skin slapping against skin mixed with the noise of the bed frame creaking and Suna’s cries. With every push and pull, the lace panties brushed Osamu’s dick. A spike of heat pooled in his belly at the combined friction of the rough material and the smooth, warm glide of his cock sinking into Suna’s body.</p><p>Osamu had been looking forward to tearing Suna apart by the seams, but he felt himself already nearing his peak. He needed Suna to come first. Not to mention, he had an oath to fulfill.</p><p>Osamu slowed his thrusts so he could place his hand between Suna’s shoulder blades. Ignoring the annoyed jabs from the man beneath him, Osamu shoved him down until his chest met the mattress.</p><p>The way Suna’s back arched in a gorgeous curve made Osamu’s cock throb, his gut lurching and blood burning. He draped over Suna. Planting one hand on the bed, Osamu reached for the front of the panties. He yanked them down until Suna's dick was free; it bobbed in the air and slapped against Osamu’s hand, wetting his palm.</p><p>Osamu wrapped his hand around Suna’s cock. He thumbed at the slit, asking, "Are you gonna come for me?"</p><p>He didn't wait for an answer. Instead, he gave Suna a slow stroke before twisting his wrist with a quick snap of his hips. Suna cried out Osamu’s name; it rang in his ears, loud and clear.</p><p>Osamu set a new pace. It was erratic and brutal, making the headboard thump on the wall in quick succession. Suna’s moans escalated with every grind of Osamu’s hips, blending in with Osamu’s own grunts and ragged pants.</p><p>After another thrust, Suna threw his head back against Osamu’s shoulder and screamed, coming between Osamu’s fingers. He fucked him through his orgasm until he felt Suna shuddering, his hole clenching tight enough to send Osamu tumbling over the edge.</p><p>"<em>Fuck</em>," Suna gasped between labored breaths. He slumped onto the bed, landing in the cum staining the sheets. "Fuck."</p><p>Osamu flopped next to him, dizzy with aftershocks. He stared at the ceiling through hooded eyes.</p><p>A moment later, Suna asked, "Do you think we'll get another angry letter tomorrow morning?</p><p>Osamu peered at the wall opposite the window. The city lights cast flickering shadows over the sticky notes decorating the wall. Angry words we're scribbled on them, ranging from "<em>Will you guys keep it down</em>?"</p><p>to:</p><p>"<em>Get the fuck off of him, Osamu</em>!"</p><p>and finally:</p><p>"<em>I've had my fair share of fun during my youth, but never did I shout such filthy words</em>."</p><p>Osamu turned to look at Suna. His thoughts echoed the sly tilt of Suna’s smile.</p><p>"Keep the panties on tonight, and I'll make sure we have at least three."</p><p>"Deal."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for reading! Join me on <a href="https://twitter.com/goodbyesweetie">Twitter</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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